20: You and I are Dangerous

Mature content warning

(just like in PC, mom i know you follow me on here but don't read this <3)

(also the song is for Yeti's little dilemma at the end not necessarily the start of this)

(i'm sorry it's also super long, 6000 words)

YETI

I woke up about five minutes ago to Milo rolling over in my arms, nestling into my chest. Which was by far the cutest thing he's ever done. Probably one of the first times I've ever been cuddled with like this. He was stiff upon getting into bed with me, nervous, really. I had expected him to roll away to fall asleep, but he fell asleep right there under my arm. So, when he rolled over, I kissed his forehead, hoping to settle in and fall back asleep again. But, alas, hope is futile.

He grabbed my ass in his sleep. Which was not at all expected.

I had to laugh because if there's one thing that I've learned from the last four hours of 'sleeping', is that I'm a light sleeper and he sleep-talks. He smiled and mumbled in his sleep something like "nice ass." and I died.

"Milo," I tried to move his hand but he's strong. "Milo, hey." He yawned and moved, then wiggled a little so he's hugging me around the waist and his head is on my stomach. I rolled to my back at this point and took him with me. Now I'm just laying here, my left leg falling asleep, his cute mop of hair flopped across my stomach.

"Rocket," I run my hand through his hair, pushing it away from his face. "Rocket, this is a little uncomfortable."

"Mm," He blinks at me, lifting his head up, then squinting at me. "How the fuck did you get here."

"Uh-"

"Oh, wait, right," He sits up, straddling my hips, and stretches. Then I'm staring at him because he's hot as all hell when he's groggy. "Right, we're dating."

"Happy seven-hour anniversary," I yawn. "Now get back here."

"Yeah," he flops forward onto my chest and snuggles down on me, but he's visibly awake, from sleeping to energetic in moments. "You smell like vanilla."

"Thanks," I kiss his neck softly, just once, and then he's kissing mine, not just once. He's moving from one spot down to my collarbones. His long fingers tuck under the collar of his shirt on me and he tugs it so he can get further down. His mouth fits just perfectly on the dip between my two collarbones and my skin is folding in his teeth.

It wakes me up quick. All it takes is his tongue brushing lightly just under my ear and I'm wide awake with a little mumble of surprise. How he's managed to pinpoint and tease that soft spot of mine within hours of kissing me for the first time, I have no idea.

His lips scatter damp kisses across my neck, pausing here and there to press the flat of his tongue against my skin, knowing it makes me let out sighs.

"Off," he mumbles, pulling the bottom of my shirt. My stomach lights up, sending a flurry of tingles through me and I sit up, pulling it off in one swipe and tossing it to the floor. It makes him smile, his fingers rubbing down my chest then pressing into my abs.

I watch him move back to my collarbones, sucking long enough to leave little spots along my left side, careful that they won't creep above the collar of a shirt. Once he's below that line, however, my body is free-range. I'm pale all over and my skin has never been resilient to much, so one sharp kiss is enough to leave a little red spot, not quite a bruise, but a spot nonetheless. He figures that out quickly as well.

Seeing him like this, on all fours, hovering over me, hair falling into his eyes, his hot lips going wherever they please, is the possibly most sexually charged thing I think I've ever witnessed.

"Kiss me." I whisper, watching the way he folds his bottom lip under his teeth. The words come out before I can think twice about anything. I say it out of the thick feeling in the back of my throat that I'm getting while watching him kiss everywhere but my lips. I'm scared about it though, nobody has really kissed me like this without the... well, the teeth.

Rocket doesn't seem to give a flying fuck because it's barely a second before his hand is around my jaw and his lips are on mine. I fight my instinct to grab him by the hips and pin him down under me, he might not be okay with that. I don't know.

I don't know a lot of things right now, a couple of them being how in god's name is he so good at this, how does he kiss me and make me feel so outright insane.

Maybe he won't mind if I flip him over. I reach down and grab his knee, my other hand on the back of his head, feeling the way he's rocking his lips into mine in a steady and crazed rhythm, letting my tongue rub against his, making my brain numb and my body very much not. I roll upward, pulling his knee up the side of my body to hug his stomach right against mine.

He's out of breath, heaving for it, really. I can feel every sharp intake into his chest and stomach from the pressure of his skin on my own and the gushes of air across my cheeks.

He seems to be alright with the new position, so I drop my hips against his, making his vocal cords strain a little, releasing a groan into my teeth at the sudden contact of my hips on his. Then I drop him, straight down, perching myself on top of him, all of my body pressed against his.

Rocket seems stunned by this change of position, his hands freezing for just a second. I think I've startled him and crossed a boundary for a second. He corrects that thought of mine after his momentary pause, his fingertips teasing up my shoulders before digging into my hair like if he lets go he'll never get to touch it again.

Then it's messy. Messy. It's the hot and sloppy type, my tongue and his not stopping for a single second. It's making my heart rate go through the roof and from the grip he has on me is telling me he's feeling the same way. It's the kiss I've wanted for a long time with him. It's the kiss I've thought about dragging him into the locker room to have, the kiss I've wanted to share with him while sneaking away from practice, the kiss that's been threatening my sanity for weeks now.

He drops his head back for a moment, catching me by surprise. Rocket's eyes are open, staring at me like he's stunned out of his mind. I'm sure I'm giving him the same look back as our mouths ghost across each other's, breaths rushing out in stuttered gasps. He doesn't let me have long to breathe before I'm tangled back up in arms and legs and lips and teeth and the desperate and rough. I'm losing my damn marbles.

"Mmph, Rocks, off, take it off." I groan into his lips as one of his hands slips lower down my back, I don't have any intention to have sex with him. I can't do that on the first night. It doesn't mean I don't desperately want his shirt off. He knows what I mean, sitting up under me for a split second and stripping himself, revealing his rolled shorts and sharp knife-cut muscle lines, not deep but definitely there. I can't stare too long before his mouth is back on mine. "God, you don't know how much I've wanted to kiss you like this." I put my palm against the soft bronzed skin of his stomach, rubbing my fingers over the slight rises and falls in his core, then to his hip, digging my fingers into the soft flesh above his bone.

I feel him smile against my lips, pulling back just a little, forehead on mine, green eyes driving into me. "Great, and you have no idea how much I've wanted to do this." His voice is rough and hoarse, like I kissed it right out of him.

His arms fly up around my neck and I'm pulled face first into the pillow next to his head. For some reason, I think that was exactly what he was going for.

In a fraction of a second, his hips buck into mine and his leg knocks my knees out from under me.

I let out a grunt, my back slamming down hard enough that my lungful of air comes rushing out. "Fuck." I cuss, then lift my head up to look at him, perched over my hips, smiling at me. "You could've rolled me over like a normal person."

That just makes his smile get bigger.

For some reason, some small part of me is telling me that is not a good thing.

"You, my dear defenseman," he drops his hands on either side of my head, making the thin silver chain around his neck dangle just in front of my eyes. "Are quite heavy." His knees squeeze my hips, legs tucked just right so I can't move my lower half.

While this would normally drive me up a wall, barely being able to move, for some reason it's enthralling with him.

I'm out of anything to say, watching his eyes on mine. I swallow a hard knot in my throat as his shoulders tense, his arms dropping down to his elbows on either side of my head by my ears. I'm reminded once again, as I see the action cause a ripple of muscle up his arms and shoulders, that there's a literal pro-athlete on top of me. I might think I'm dangerous and tough in situations like this but he's just as threatening as I am, if not more based off how quick his reflexes are.

I test it, my fingers on my left hand sliding under him, one knuckle running across the centerline of his abs. His eyes stay steady on mine, daring me. His eyebrows go up when I hit the line of hair headed down. I rotate my wrist, setting all five fingertips out on the base of his stomach, then spinning my wrist just a little more, trying to rotate so my thumb goes under the elastic on his boxers.

That gets a good grin out of him, but I can't even come near the band without a flash of his hand, grabbing my wrist and pulling it off him. "Don't tempt me."

"Tempt you?" I confirm, moving my other arm up instead, knowing that if he takes his other arm off the sheets he'll fall over. He doesn't let me get that far, instead sitting up as quickly as he fell on top of me, dropping my other hand and smiling, watching my fingers come up to tug at the band, asking permission somewhat. The other half of me wants to know exactly how he reacts to this.

His eyes flit down to my hands, then lock on mine. I tug again. I don't know what I'll do if I get them off, I didn't mean to take it this far, but now I'm in too deep. I want this too much.

"You know," Rocket leans forward, putting both hands on my stomach and leaning on them, making his hair fall forward from where he'd pushed it back to be. "Isn't seven hours a little early?"

I choke on the clearly dangerous expression on his face, dropping my hands back to the sheets, suddenly incredibly unsure of my previous intent.

Rocket sits back up again, standing from knees up. Both his hands raise up, running backward through his hair, pushing it off his forehead. Lord he's attractive.

He lets out a single, almost nervous, chuckle. "Jsem v nebezpečí."

I'm curious to see what he does next. I've never been with anyone other than coffee-shop type boys. You know, sweaters and musical theatre, though I do appreciate musical theatre, I appreciate Rocket's interest in my sport a little bit more. The three boys before this were nowhere near how assertive Rocket is being right now-

"You're thinking too much." He tips my chin up, suddenly close again, interrupting my train of thought. "You think way too much, show me what that mouth does again?" I'm eager to, pressing my lips against his again.

Rocket smiles into my teeth, a terribly mischievous smile. His set of perfectly lined up all in-tact teeth nips my bottom lip.

Then I feel cold fingers against my hips, under my waistband.

I let out a short gasp, cut off by Rocket's lips on mine. His hand ghosts over the front of my shorts and to be honest, I'm out of my mind excited in any definition of the word.

His lips travel down, nipping my ear before scattering short kisses down my chest. He leans back on his heels and suddenly there's cold air on my skin. All of my skin.

Where the fuck did my pants and boxers go.

He didn't even let me acclimate with only my shorts being off, he went for both.

I can't even bother being confused about it because he's got his mouth on me again, taking me in, and I'm biting my lips trying not to make too much noise. My lungs have shut down in an instant and I'm gasping for air, chasing that feeling. I'm staring at him, a little bit in shock but definitely enjoying the way his lips fold over my length, taking me in. He knows all the right spots and one of his hands is in mine. I can't help but groan his name under my breath, my eyes rolling back in my head.

"N-not expecting th- this." I gasp out.

"You okay with it?" Rocket pulls his lips off me to ask.

I drop my head to the pillow, my back arching off the sheets. "Mmph." Is all I can manage. That's all he needs to hear, going right back to the mind-numbing trick he's pulled on me.

I can't think to say anything more than cursing at how good this feels, how skilled his mouth is. I know my fallback language will always be Swedish and he can't understand it, but I hope he understands the situation enough to know that what I'm saying right now isn't exactly a grocery list. Every curse and tease, each low utterance of something damning comes out thick, stuttered and heavy, like he's stripping me of my ability to speak as well as most control over my body.

Milo sits up after an embarrassingly short time. I gave him a warning, as clear as I could manage while his tongue was playing with every nerve ending possible. He didn't take it, instead, giving me as much of a smile as he could manage. He locked his lips around me as I curled my fingers and toes, crashing down after my high.

Miloš waits until I start breathing again, then slips his mouth off me, making my jaw clench with newfound sensitivity. He sits up, wiping off the side of his mouth with the heel of his hand.

"Holy shit," I whisper, shuffling and then propping myself up on my elbows, staring at him. I'm sure I look like a wreck. A freshly fucked rosy-cheeked wreck.

"Honest to God I expected that to taste worse," he shrugs like he didn't just demonstrate the utter lack of a gag reflex. I have no explanation for it in any other way than he just doesn't have one. "Salty." Is all he comments.

One of his hands goes up through his hair and he gives me a cheeky little grin. "How ya feelin' old man?"

"Asshole," I shakily grab his hips and pin him under me, my legs are weak. "I'm not old."

He tosses his arms up above his head, looking up at me, soft but mischievous smile stretched across his satisfied face. "I'll try again, older man."

I open my mouth to respond but he pulls me down by the back of my neck and kisses me again, letting me taste myself on his tongue. Nobody's done that before. "But seriously, are you feeling alright? I looked up and was pretty sure you were going to pass out." His voice is all concern and no mocking, which confuses as well as entertains me.

"Huh? No, I was alright, great, really," has he never seen anyone orgasm before? "Now, let me."

"What?" He doesn't seem against it, just stunned. "You're going to-"

"Yeah?" I frown, tucking my fingers under his waistband. "I'm not a jerk."

That gets his eyebrows up and he seems to be weighing his options. "Alright, yeah." He settles back into the sheets, looking up at me.

I just stare back, considering laughing. Sometimes I really can't tell if he's absurdly smart or if there's absolutely nothing happening up there. The library of Alexandria or a singular filing cabinet that's got maybe four sheets of printer paper in it, one being a bad drawing of a frog.

"Why are you staring at me like that?" He's pink in the cheeks.

I shake my head to clear my thoughts. "Nothing, nothing, just-" I have to let out a single chuckle, stifling it before he thinks I'm being weird. "Just relax." I shift my hips over his and then reconnect our lips, tasting a little salt on the underside of his tongue.

I get distracted kissing him and it's not until his hips push up into mine, showing me how much this is making his body feel, that I realize what I was supposed to be doing.

His skin is warm and he smells like cedar as I kiss under his ear, then down his throat. He lets out a harsh sigh when my lips hit his adam's apple so I stop and tease the area for a couple of seconds, realizing it's a soft spot for him.

I glance down.

Oh, okay.

Keeping my mouth off him so I can tease and kiss down his body just got a whole lot harder. I want him to feel the same way I did, I need him too. So I skip his chest, going straight for the spot just above his rolled waistband.

The gasp he lets out at the pressure I applied there tells me everything I need to know.

I pull down his shorts and boxers with one hand, the other keeping myself upright, and then physically can't keep myself off him. My hormones are through the roof and every bit of me is dying to make him feel as good as he made me feel. His hands are knotted in my hair instantly, pulling at it, and I fight back a little bit of my gag reflex. He's too good to stop because of that.

Miloš is a good bit noisier than I was. He's groaning under his breath with every stroke I take, moaning my name. He's losing his composure completely, laying there and taking it, and it's hot. I've never seen him get like this, lose it like this, as out of his own control as this, and I love it. I love every second of it. I love the shocked and startled look on his face, I love his hands shaking in my hair, restraining himself from pushing my head down. I love the way I can watch his muscles twitch and pull in his stomach and chest. I love every strangled 'fuck' that comes out of his mouth at first, followed by losing his whole damn composure and not being able to put himself together enough to speak in anything but his mother tongue. I don't know the first thing about the Czech language, much less on how to divide the harsh accents into individual words, but something is telling me those aren't things he'd say to his grandma, just the same as he could probably tell my Swedish wasn't a grocery list.

"HÃ¥kon, HÃ¥ks-" He pants. "I, HÃ¥kon, get, I'm gonna come." his grip on my hair gets stronger, his other hand digging into my shoulder, his blunt nails making contact with my skin.

In the least disgusting way possible, I was not at all ready for the pressure. I choke, holding my breath to ride it out for him, a sting slowly building in my nose. The second he relaxes all the way, his grip loosening on my hair, I yank my mouth off him and brung a hand up to cup under my face.

"Ope." I scramble, looking around for a towel or something. There's kleenex up on the cabinets and I have to admit that I jog to get them.

Milo pulls the sheets up over his lower half, flopping flat onto his back, heaving for breath. He's laughing out of nerves and so am I, both of us flushed and euphoric, sharing the same crazy headspace.

I mean, I'm not really laughing because of the headspace.

"This is how I get a sinus infection." I wipe off my nose with the kleenex, then blowing into it.

"A sinus infection?" He's too post-orgasm out of it to pay any attention to much that's going on. He's got his hands flopped out over his head, loose and relaxed, closing his eyes in the moment. His cheeks are flushed and his lips are red and puffy. His chest is a little shiny and his hair is a goddamn wreck. He looks good.

"Rocket, it came out my nose, well, it almost did."

"No way," He sits back up and then is staring at me wiping my chin off with a second tissue. He processes for about a millisecond then we're both laughing harder. I pull my boxers back up again and try to ignore the way it's making my nose sting.

"No fucking way." He muses again.

"Yeah fucking way," It dripped onto my hand and chest in between his bed and the cabinet. It really wasn't awful at all, I would've been fine if I hadn't been breathing when he released, it made me gag and half of it went up my nose and the other half ended up in my mouth. When I was freaking out a little I choked again and it ended up on my chin.

Not my brightest moment.

"Can you, uh-" I throw him his shorts off the floor and hope he understands what I'm getting at.

"Yeah." he gets up and gets dressed enough to take me to the bathroom. Rocket flicks on the light and immediately reels at it, shutting it back off again as quickly as it came on.

"I can take you to Home Depot," I say as he hands me a wet rag. "You'll fit right in with the pressure washers."

"Oh shut up," He stands there as I wipe off my chin. "I can chill with the pressure washers, but you'll be in with the hoses."

"Hey." I work on my chest, then my upper lip.

Then we're both standing there and he's trying not to laugh again.

"They're going to ask us what we did over the break and I'm going to have to stop myself from saying that I shot off so hard that it came out your nose."

"What'd you do over break Yeti?" I mimic. "Gave Rocket the best oral sex of his life, apparently."

He's laughing so hard his eyes are closed.

"Promise you won't make it come out my nose again?" I look over at him but he's got his hands on his knees.

"I can't promise that, you did it once, no doubt you can do it again," He tries to stop laughing for a moment but my lip twitches and we're both laughing again. "I swear if you get a sinus infection from this I'm going to lose my mind."

"I'll go to the doctors and they'll ask what was in my nose for this to happen and I'll just have to sit there quietly and pretend that this wasn't the story behind it," I turn on the faucet and swish some water in my mouth before spitting it out. "Would've been worse if I had sneezed."

"We'd spend all of tomorrow cleaning, that's what we'd do," He fills his mouth with water but can't keep it in long before laughing. "Couples bonding!"

"Rocket," I snort. "Rocket how the fuck are we supposed to look at the rest of the team."

"After this? I have no idea."

"I gotta get on that ice next to you and act like we didn't totally start dating over the break," I can still feel it in my nose and it's starting to itch. "I'm going to sneeze."

"Get a towel or something," He hands me one and I sneeze into the towel, several times, each time feeling less like a sneeze and more like a small airplane taking off. Rocket laughs. "You sneeze like a dad."

"What the hell does that mean?"

"Really aggressively. At least, that's what Steph's dad and my billet dad did." Oh, fuck, right.

"Thanks." Is all I can think to respond with. Rocket bounces up onto his toes, giving me a kiss before he takes my hand and pulls me back into the room. My nose is still stinging a little.

"Alright," Rocket pulls me down on top of him. "We're going to have to be careful about where we kiss and when because I don't want a casual kiss goodnight to become that again, but I can't get enough of you." He lifts his hand up, offering me a high-five.

I stare blankly at him for a split second, then smack my hand against his. This man really just high-fived me? After that? What?

"Yeah, alright," I'm tired, and completely fucked out. It's been a while. He tucks his head into the side of my chest and then I'm lazily rubbing the little spot on his hip. My body feels absolutely and completely relaxed for the first time in months. It's even better that he's right here, feeling the same.

Rocket's sleeping in moments, but I'm still somewhat awake, staring at him. I'm letting myself look at the rough hair fanned out lightly across the corner of his jaw and the bottom of his chin, I'm enjoying the way it's scratchy against my finger when I trace it down his cheek. I love how long his eyelashes are, how unruly his eyebrows are, how very very not female he is.

I like him, that's for sure, but there's that horrible sense creeping back into my head.

I thought it would be different with him, that the situation would be so different I wouldn't have this problem, that I wouldn't feel that way. I can't help it. There's that crippling sense of shame sitting in the back of my head.

I don't regret this. I can't regret this. No bit of me feels anything but happy when I look at him. No tiny part of me feels anything negative when I touch him, when he's wrapped up in my arms. But there's that crippling damning feeling anyway.

I slip my arms around him, tugging him closer to my chest, trying to make him do the same thing he does normally, make me feel safe from it. I'm trying to bury myself in his energy.

I just can't get the stupid little echo out of the back of my head. Hell, HÃ¥kon, there's no exceptions for people like that, people that make that choice.

I hold tight to Rocket, tucking my head into the front of his chest, breathing him in, trying to convince myself for the millionth time that I had no fucking say in this. I didn't choose this.

My stomach turns over, giving me the same nausea I suffered from at the beginning of every season.

I press my face further into him. Just fall asleep. It'll go away if you're asleep. I tighten up my arms, running the tips of my fingers against his soft warm skin. His relaxed body. A couple of freckles on his back. I stare at the peach fuzz on his skin, enjoying the way it dips in when I run my fingers across it.

Rocket rolls, landing flat on his back, tugging me so my head is on his chest.

I push my thoughts aside to focus on the tiny little brown hairs on the very center of his chest. I let his chest rise and fall under my cheek, letting myself watch the way his ribs slide under his skin, expanding and contracting at a slow sleepy pace.

Rocket's fingers bunch lightly in the hair on the back of my head, tugging lightly. For a moment I think he's awake, then I hear a cute little Czech mumbling and I'm reassured that he's asleep, there's only one person I've ever met that sleeptalks as much as he does.

Then something he says sounds like he's awake. "mmhmm," he whispers. "Get comfortable, I'm right here for you." I lift my head up, but when his eyes are shut, I realize he was just sleep talking again.

I'm not slow to take his advice, shifting my weight so I can settle closer to him. He picked on me for being a cuddler earlier but I didn't have the heart to tell him that I'm only a cuddler because I can't remember the last time I got hugged outside of a hockey celebration and sex. I can't remember any specific time during my entire life that my parents have hugged me.

I push my nose into his neck and breathe in his slightly sweaty post sex smell. I breathe in the sappy cedar smell coming off his skin, it reminds me of the forest back in Sweden, being free with my thoughts while wandering as a little kid.

I hold him as tight as I can manage, desperately just wanting to hide within his depths.

ROCKET

Maybe... if I keep my voice slightly slurred... and I spice it up with some Czech... he won't notice that I'm definitely not sleeping.

I dozed off for maybe a few minutes but it's hard to sleep when the guy you're falling in love with, who literally just took part of your virginity, is sniffling into your shoulder.

I run my fingers as slowly as I can through his hair, whispering something else. "Mm, no no no, shh." I hope it's passable as sleep talk.

He quiets down a tiny bit and I realize he's not stopping, just getting smaller about it. I definitely don't want him to hide his feelings. That's not at all the outcome I was going for.

Fuck it.

"HÃ¥kon, shh, hey, hey," I pick my head up and tip his chin to look at me. "Are you okay?"

He pushes his fingers against my lips. "Go back to sleep, I'm alright."

"No, no you're not." I put my fingers around his jaw and pull his head to me, kissing tears off his cheeks. "Talk to me, please."

"It's... nothing, really." He mumbles, knowing he's not fooling me in the slightest.

"You don't regret that, right?" I ask, suddenly terrified.

"No, no no no, god no." He leans up and gives me a soft kiss on the lips. "Can we talk about this later? I just want to sleep."

Liar. "Yeah, okay." I open up my arms. "Get back in here, I'm sorry I picked on you for liking cuddles."

He groans, rolling away from me, then, in a joking tone: "Jerk."

I shuffle closer, slinging my arms around his stomach and big spooning him. "You know you like me."

He just smiles to himself.

I run my hand up and down his back until I find a muscle knot in his low shooting shoulder. With a slight push of my hand I urge him onto his stomach, he rolls hesitantly, but gives in all the way when he realizes what I'm going for.

I kiss the top of his shoulder, then his ear. "Why haven't you bothered Mechanic about this?" It's a spot that isn't relaxed like the rest of him, it's tight to the touch.

"Doesn't bother me." He mumbles into the pillow, his entire back tensing up with even the slightest movement of my hands. Liar liar, pants on fire.

I test it a couple times, moving my hands and watching his back ripple and tighten under each new spot. He doesn't seem to be conscious of this reaction to simple touches.

"Baby," I whisper, loving and hating the way my accent burns through the word. "I know you're not used to people touching you like this, but just relax, I'm not going to hurt you."

"I know, it's, my back's sensitive." He says it like he's embarrassed but I pull my hand up to cover my mouth and stop myself from audibly cooing at this.

I lean down and kiss the nape of his neck instead, trying my best to soothe out the tenseness in his back with my fingers. I start by just trying to get him to calm to my touch, setting my palms on his back in different spots here and there.

I realize through a little trial and error that if I take my hands off him at any moment, he'll tense when they touch him again.

So I work with it, starting with a little pressure on the spot, then moving my thumbs in the direction of the muscle fibre, as if I'm trying to stretch it out like play dough. Then I work with a more kneading type thing that one of the medical guys back in Boston used to fix one of my hips back in my second season. It seems to work wonders, my fingers start actually sinking into his back instead of hitting hard muscle right off the bat. I notice that the longer I work, the more relaxed that arm becomes. When I started it was buckled up tight to his body, his hand clenched. Now it's stretched out, his fingers loose.

He sets his head on the side, his eyes flicking up to watch me work on his back. I smile at the little gesture, but keep my focus down. I know that if I look him in the eyes I'll be distracted again. He's too attractive for his own good. It's not conventional, not something people would 'pick out' from a crowd, but he's beautiful. Everything from his snowy white hair and white eyelashes that sit over his eyes like frost on a windowpane to his puffy fireplace-warm lips and the faint pale paintbrush splatter freckles all over his shoulders.

Soon enough, I figure out that there's actually more than one type of snoring. Don't get me wrong, I love my best friend to death, but I've almost smothered him with a pillow before. More than once. Quite a lot.

His is different. It's a little deeper and a lot quieter. Thank fuck for that. I smile to myself when he makes the first little mewl of exhaustion, I have successfully knocked this defenseman out. I push his hair out of his eyes, tucking it back behind his ears as much as I can. He mumbles something Swedish when I slip my arm under his head, nuzzling backward into me. I rub my hand down his side, patting once at his hip, then grabbing the blankets and pulling us into an incredibly cozy little cocoon.

Today was officially the gayest day of my life and I loved every single second of it. Except when he cried, but I loved everything else.

I'm fast asleep before I can say religious trauma.

***

the only heaven i'll be sent to,

is when i'm alone with you.

i was born sick, but i love it,

command me to be well.

take me to church - hozier

***

EDIT: i added the high-five skit because of a tiktok

yeah okay that was long, sorry, whoops. anyway dreamteam match up for what I would assume to be the most beautiful song in existence if it ever happens: MISSIO and Hozier. I'd die.

also how would you guys feel if I made my announcement board into like a mock wolves twitter thing. you'd get a notif and it would be like:

(9/17/20 1:02 AM)

just made a ham sandwich

@ rocket-stojanovic

OR

(9/17/20 1:05 AM)

just watched rocket eat a ham sandwich at lightning speed. not even nolan patrick's ham sandwich has anything on rocket's.

@ h.r.rex74